“I’ll catch up with y’all down the road,” Hardrock told Smoke.
“What is in the sack?” Parnell inquired.
“Some presents for the range-robbers. It wouldn’t be neighborly to just go off and not leave something.”
Parnell muttered something under his breath about the strangeness of western people while Smoke grinned at him.
The caravan moved out, with Smoke riding with his rifle across his saddle horn. Smoke did not expect any trouble so soon after the outlaw attack the past night, but one never knew about the mind of Dooley Hanks. The man didn’t even know his own mind.
The trip to the Smith was uneventful and Spring knew a place where the wagon and the buggy could get across with little difficulty. A couple of Cord’s hands were waiting on the west side of the river to point the way for the cattle. Smoke rode on to the ranch with the women and Parnell. Cord met them in the front yard.
“The house and barn go up last night?” he asked. “We seen a glow.”
Just the barn. I imagine the house will be fired tonight.” He smiled. ”After they try to loot it. But Hardrock left a few surprises for them.” He told the ranch owner about the rattlesnakes in the bureau drawers and in other places.
Cord’s smile was filled with grim satisfaction. “They’ll get exactly what they deserve. Your momma’s in the house, Rita.” He stared at her. “Girl, what have you done to your hair?”
“Whacked it off.” Rita grinned. You like my jeans, Mister Cord?”
Cord shook his head and muttered about women dressin’ up in men’s britches and ridin’ astride. Rita laughed at him as Sandi came out onto the porch. She squealed and the young women ran toward each other and hugged.
“The women been cleaning out the old bunkhouse all mornin’, Smoke. It ain’t fancy, but the roof don’t leak and the bunks is in good shape and the sheets and blankets is clean.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll go get settled in and get back with you.”
“Smoke?”
He turned around to face Cord. The man stuck out his big hand and Smoke took it. “Good to have you with us in this thing.”
“They done pulled out!” Larado reported back to Jason and Lanny. “They moved the cattle toward the Smith this mornin’. I found where they caved a ravine in on top of them they kilt last night. And it looks like the house is nearabouts full of good stuff.”
“One down,” Lanny said with a grin. “Let’s take us a ride over there and see what we can find in the house. If they left in a hurry, they prob’ly didn’t pack much.”
The range-robbers rode up cautiously, but already the place had that aura of desertion about it. Lanny and Jason were feeling magnanimous that morning and told the boys to go ahead, help themselves to whatever they could find in the house.
A dozen gunnies began looting the house.
“Hey!” Slim called. “This here box is locked. Gimme that there hammer over yonder on the sill.” He hammered the lock off while others squatted down, close to him, ready to snatch and grab should the box be filled with valuables. Slim opened the lid. Two rattlesnakes lunged out, one of them taking Slim in the throat and the other nailing a bearded gunny on the cheek and hanging on, wrapping around the gunny’s neck, striking again and again.
One outlaw dove through a window escaping the snakes; another took the back door off its hinges. A gunny known only as Red fell over the couch knocking a bureau over. A rattler slithered out of the opened drawer and began striking at the man’s legs, while Red kicked and screamed and howled in agony.
Larado ran from the house in blind fear, running into Lanny who was running toward the house, Lanny fell back into Jason, and all three of them landed in the dust in a heap of arms and legs.
Ben Sabler rode up with his kin just in time to see Red crawl from the house and scream out his misery, the rattlesnake coiled around one leg, striking again and again at Red’s stomach.
Ben did not hesitate. He jerked iron and shot Red in the head, putting him out of his agony, and then shot the snake, clipping its head off with deadly accuracy.
The bearded gunny staggered out the door, dying on his feet. Venom dripped from his face. He stood for a moment, and then fell like a tree, facefirst in the dirt. The rattler sidewinded toward Larado, who jerked out his pistol and emptied it into the rattler.
“Burn this damn place!” Lanny shouted.
“Slim’s in there!”
Lanny looked inside. Slim was already beginning to swell from the massive amount of venom in his body. Lanny carefully backed out. “Slim’s dead,” he announced. “Damn Smoke Jensen. The bassard ain’t human to do something lak this.”
“I heard that he was from hell, myself,” a gunny called Blaine said. He sat his horse and looked at the death house. “I knowed a man said Jensen took lead seven times one day some years back. Never did knock him down. He just kept on comin’.”
“That ain’t no story,” Ben Sabler said. “I was there. I seen it.”
Lanny looked at Ben. “I’ll kill him. And that’s a promise.”
“I gotta see it.” Ben didn’t back down. “I seen his graveyards. I ain’t never seen none of yours.”
“Hang around,” Lanny told him. He turned his back and shouted the order. “Burn this damn place to the ground!”
Seventeen
They stood in the front yard and watched the smoke spiral up into the sky, caught by vortexes in the hot air and spinning upward until breaking up.
Parnell stood with clenched fists, his eyes on the dark smoke. “I say now, that was unnecessary. Quite brutish. And that makes me angry.” He stalked away, muttering to himself.
Fae was on the porch, her face in her hands, crying softly. “She’s a woman after all,” Lujan said, so softly only Smoke could hear.
Del worked the handle of the outside pump, wetting a bandana and taking it to Fae.
Fae looked at the foreman, surprise in her eyes, and tried a smile as she took the dampened bandana. “Thank you, Del.”
“You’re shore welcome, ma’am.” He backed off a few feet.
“Lujan,” Smoke said. “You and me and Beans. We hit them tonight.”
“Si, señor.” Lujan’s teeth flashed in a smile. “I was wondering when you would have enough of being pushed.”
By late afternoon, everyone at the Circle Double C knew the three men were going headhunting. But no one said a word about it. That might have caused some bad luck. And no one took umbrage at not being asked along. This was to be—they guessed—a hit-hard-and-quick-and-run-like-hell operation. Too many riders would just get in the way.
When Smoke threw a saddle on Dagger, the big mean-eyed horse was ready for the trail, and he showed his displeasure at not being ridden much lately by trying to step on Smoke’s foot.
The men took tape from the medicine chest and taped everything that might jingle. They took everything out of their pockets that was not necessary and looped bandoleers of ammunition across their chests. They were all dressed in dark clothing.
Just after dusk, Beans and Sandi went for a short walk while Smoke and Lujan squatted under the shade of a huge old tree by the bunkhouse and watched as Cord left the main house and walked toward them.
He squatted down beside them in the near-darkness of Montana’s summer dusk. “Nice quiet evenin’, boys.”
“Indeed it is, senor.” Lujan flashed his smile. His eyes flicked over to Beans and Sandi, now sitting in the yard swing. “A night for romance.”
Cord grunted, but both men knew the rancher liked the young man called the Moab Kid. “Sandi would be inclined to give me all sorts of grief if anything was to happen to Beans.”